


Inktober Day 2 - Wisp

by wareweasel



Series: Inktober Challenge 2020 [2]
Category: EverQuest, Inktober - Fandom
Genre: Everquest - Freeform, Gen, Inktober, Spooky, Wisp - Freeform, inktober day 2, inktober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wareweasel/pseuds/wareweasel
Summary: A newly minted Rogue finds just how dangerous the Commonlands can be.
Series: Inktober Challenge 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948951
Kudos: 1





	Inktober Day 2 - Wisp

**Author's Note:**

> Day two prompt - "Wisp"

Inktober   
Day 2 – Wisp

Jacqueline D’hara crouched low next to the Savannah trees dotting the landscape and waited for the hot summer sun to dip below the horizon. The Commonlands were comprised of sun-baked stretches of tall grass and scrubland filled with Lions, Pumas, and other dangerous animals that called the place home.

“As it should be,” Jacqueline muttered as she reflected on the land around her. 

Jacqueline was a Dark Elf fresh out of the Rogue’s Guild in Neriak, within the Third Gate. Most guilds, the truly dangerous guilds, made their home within the Third Gate, and it took special qualities to get into and train in those guilds. Originally, her parents had wanted her to be an initiate of Innorruk, and her parents had appealed to Perrir Zexus to get her into some initiate robes. She was soon fobbed off on the Rogue’s Guild, however, because she kept stealing from the temple. Normally a Dark Elf was sentenced to drowning for those too feeble for the Lord of Hate, however her problem was not that she was too feeble, but that she was too bold. She had started small, stealing candlesticks and coin purses, and had worked her way up to stealing His holy emblems directly off the priests themselves. The priests saw her as having the gift of the Innorruk, if not the calling. So to Master G’Zule she went, and into a two year apprenticeship service learning the finer points of thievery, killing, and lock charming.

The Commonlands “Heist” as she liked to call it, was in fact her first assignment. Sure, she had done other small jobs, including killing some noble out of Freeport that had netted her a bit of coin, but this kill was to be her own, her test of what she could do independently, to be judged by the Master once back at home. Jacqueline flexed her fingers and rolled her shoulders, hearing loud pops from sitting in a crouch for too long. 

“Orcs, too easy,” She said to herself as she sprang up on the balls of her feet. She was nimble and lithe, like a dancer; a wisp of a girl with long white hair and a face that always looked like she was hiding something. Her fine, delicate features were common traits among her people, but her green eyes like snake scales and her midnight black complexion truly made her a stunning addition to the people of Neriak.

Jacqueline shaded her eyes and turned to watch the sun go down past the ridgeline, bathing the lands in darkness. “Time to go to work.” Jacqueline stalked from one patch of shadows to another, silent as the night and as graceful as a gazelle. She didn’t have a target, yet, but the Commonlands were littered with orc encampments and small outposts of men. Men would be her target, not just anyone, but someone special, someone important! She moved stealthily alongside the road waiting for her chance.

A Will-O-Wisp bobbed and flickered among the tall grass to her right. 

“Interesting,” she muttered to herself. 

Popular belief held that Will-O-Wisps were the souls of the dead meant to guide those still living to their fates. It was a popular story meant to scare naughty children, but her belief in fairy tales had died long ago. She was about to move off, but a scream to her right caused her to investigate. The scream came from a nearby orc encampment, mostly dark. Her interest piqued; Jacqueline moved further into the main camp. The place was a bloody mess; several thick chains had been torn from their post next to a fire - somehow, a prisoner had gotten loose. Orc bellows farther away from the camp caused her to move in to get a closer look. Among the tall grass, the largest Barbarian she had ever seen was making mincemeat of the Orc Legionnaires that were trying desperately to bring him to heel. One had tried to grab around the body of the Barbarian and hollered as it was casually picked up and held high overhead. A quick downwards thrust caused a snap to the creature’s spine, and its voice cut off abruptly. The other orcs, seeing their dead companion flung into the grass bellowed and charged, swords swinging madly. The fight was over relatively quickly, and the Barbarian, bathed in blood sat down amid the carnage and wept.

This was the mark Jacqueline had been waiting for, Neriak would give her a hero’s welcome for killing a Barbarian. She stretched and pulled the twin daggers at her waist out, feeling the leather as she gripped them. A slight movement caused the Barbarian to look up. “I know you’re here, Dark Elf.” He called. “You should leave, and quickly.” Jacqueline paused. How the hell was a Barbarian able to smell her?! She took several cautious steps forward, and at the point the clouds parted, revealing pale gleaming moonlight, highlighting both the Barbarian and the blood. “I tried to warn you.” He said in a low whisper. To her mounting horror, the Barbarian changed, violently, into a hulking, slobbering, massive brute, well over nine feet tall, with wicked sharp claws, fangs, and mad gleaming eyes. It turned it’s head this and that, sniffing the air before howling and looking straight at Jacqueline, tongue lolling.

Jacqueline dropped her daggers from nervless fingers and ran screaming from the grass. She bounded through the orc encampment and dashed across the road back towards Nektulos Forest and safety. Behind her, a bloodcurdling howl rose into the night, followed by the crashing of something big through the brush. Jacqueline moved quickly, with only seconds to look for cover she dove into the grass and crawled into wet, deep mud.

No sooner had she done that than the mammoth form of the werewolf come into view, silhouetted against the night sky. In smelled the air, searching, and after considering its options moved East at a rapid pace. Jacqueline breathed a sigh of relief, or tried to, but she couldn’t open her mouth nor move her legs or hands. The mud seemed to open below her, and she treaded as if in water, unable to find purchase either in the mud or grass around her. She thrashed blindly, causing the mud to move up over her nose and into her eyes. The mud was dark and forgiving, cool as a kiss against sunburnt skin. Jacqueline thrashed again, desperately, as she was swallowed up by the mud.

A short time later a Will-O-Wisp winked into being over the quicksand.


End file.
